In the supermarket checkout queue are very two young men with Kalashnikovs slung over their shoulders. One is buying beer. The other is with a smartly-dressed girl; their basket is full of groceries. He looks about twelve.
That’s all. They pay for their goods and they leave, and no one takes any notice, because this is life in Donetsk now.
I’ve seen and heard much, much worse things over these last few days in Donetsk. Tragic, stupid, brutal stories. This scene makes my blood run cold for its simple, accepted ordinariness.